


Does Your Face Hurt? (Cause It's Killing Me!)

by kenjideath



Series: Commissions [3]
Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Dirty Talk, Face-Fucking, Hair-pulling, Humiliation, M/M, Slut Shaming, Subspace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2016-06-19
Packaged: 2018-07-16 00:44:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7245409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kenjideath/pseuds/kenjideath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post Ambrose Asylum, Dean and Seth indulge in some angry I-love-you-but-you're-still-a-dick facefucking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Does Your Face Hurt? (Cause It's Killing Me!)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Turbocharge](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Turbocharge/gifts).



> This work was commissioned by the lovely [cassiusred](http://cassiusred.tumblr.com/). 
> 
> Also, I'm not kidding about the slut-shaming, Dean is very demeaning and gross in this, so if sexual put-downs upset you I'd recommend skipping this one.

Dean used his grip on Seth’s hair to slam his head into the hotel room wall, drawing a sound out of Seth’s throat that made Dean weak in the knees. For the first time, Dean didn’t have the size advantage over Seth, but it didn’t matter, except to make Dean’s cock even harder when Seth yielded to him just as easy.

“You still like your hair pulled, slut?” Dean snarled. “You got rid of that nice little landing strip that told me right where to _yank_.” Dean jerked hard on his fistful of Seth’s hair and Seth _whimpered_ , bright eyes crossing in pleasure. Dean was going to tear him _apart._

It wasn’t exactly shocking information that Dean had never gotten over Seth. Dead people knew that about him. Still, Dean hadn’t been prepared for how it would affect him when Seth came with none of the sniveling cowardice that had clung to him before. There was steel in Seth’s eyes that hadn’t been there before, a real confidence in his step that had been missing. He was more like the Seth of Before, but with all the arrogance and cutting edges of the man Dean had hounded to the ends of the earth.

It was an intoxicating combination, and Dean had known from the moment Seth had tried to brush off his hug like so much dirt that he wasn’t going to be able to resist taking a bite.

Dean still had Seth’s head pulled back, baring the sizeable expanse of his throat. Dean accepted the implied invitation and dug his teeth into the soft flesh, and Seth gasped and tried to shove closer and pull away all at once. Dean laughed into the fresh bite mark.

“You’ve always been a whore for a little pain, haven’t you?” he asked. His voice didn’t come out how he’d intended. It was too soft, rough with lust and affection and not enough hate. “Everyone knows I’m the lunatic but you’re the one who gets wet from landing on your head, huh?” Dean licked a wet stripe up the side of Seth’s face. “Right, baby?”

Seth didn’t respond, already almost too far gone. His eyes were glazed and far away, tiny shivers were wracking his body. Dean let his thumb trace over Seth’s ear. “Ain’t nobody been hurting you right, baby?” Dean purred. “You’re even more of a slut for me than usual.”

A short gasp forced its way out of Seth’s mouth. “Please,” he rasped. Seth’s lower lip was trembling, just drawing attention to how wet his mouth was. “Dean, please, just fucking – just give it to me, please.”

Dean’s cock jerked in his pants and he growled, tightening his grip in Seth’s hair and _pulling_ him down, until Seth was squatting awkwardly with his head at crotch height. “You wanna eat some of this good dick?” Dean snarled. He grabbed the needy bulge in his own pants and shoved Seth’s face into it. Seth started whining instantly, sucking at the dark fabric with his big mouth, trying to get some piece of hot flesh inside.

It was more than Dean could stand. “Knees,” he snapped, and tried to pull Seth down all the way, when Seth jerked back, going tense all over and scrambling toward the wall. Seth was so eager to get away that he wrenched his head straight out of Dean’s hand, leaving a few hairs behind.

Thankfully, Seth wasn’t the only one who’d had a chance to grow over the last seven months. Dean made sure not to react; he stayed very still and watched Seth shrink into the wall, fearful tremors wracking his body. Then Dean crouched down slowly and said, “No knees?”

Seth’s eyes still weren’t focusing quite right. He shook his head. Dean cupped Seth’s cheek in his hand gently, trying to absorb some of his fear. “Bed?” he offered.

There was a long, tense moment when Seth didn’t respond, and then he nodded quickly, twice, and launched himself into Dean’s arms. Dean rolled his eyes as he returned the hug.

“Always so fucking needy,” Dean groused. He stepped backwards carefully, not wanting Seth to trip. “I could beat you bloody and come on the welts and you’d just beg for more.” Dean reached the bed and shoved Seth onto it, letting him bounce.

Then Dean hopped up on the bed and started arranging pillows behind Seth, trying to find the perfect angle to prop him up at.

“Betcha can’t wait to drink up all my come, huh, bitch?” Dean hissed, making sure that Seth’s neck had enough support. “It was a long seven months all on your own, wasn’t it? Tugging on your pathetic little dick, dreaming of a real cock? Did it keep you up at night,” Dean demanded, “having that little fuck hole throb, _begging_ to be filled up?”

Seth _wailed_ and gasped out, “Stop – fucking talking about and _give_ it to me, you brainless piece of crap.”

Dean felt a grin spread across his face. He cupped Seth’s cheeks again, holding him gently, gently, gently. “Oh, baby,” Dean crooned. “You shouldn’t of did that. You just can’t keep that big mouth shut, can you, you fucking scumbag piece of shit?”

Seth didn’t answer. He was panting, mouth open and yearned, and Dean couldn’t wait any longer. He fumbled one-handed with his fly, wrenching it open so he could tug out his cock, already throbbing so hard Dean could feel it in his temples.

That was all the warning Seth got before Dean thrust in, taking Seth’s shit-talking mouth for his own.

Seth was a good little bitch and knew just how to make his mouth wet and soft and keep his throat open and sweet, so Dean didn’t insult him by going easy. He went all in on the first thrust, shoving his cock as far as it could go, until Seth’s big nose was scratching against his pubic hair. Dean held it there to savor the moment; it was so fucking hot and wet, heaven on his dick, and he moaned, long and loud and unashamed while Seth’s throat bucked against him.

“Such a good little cock sheath,” Dean crooned. “Guess you hadda be good at _something_ , yeah?” Dean shifted his weight to make sure he had the angle right and drew out halfway. Seth was breathing hard out of his nose, so hard Dean could feel the puffs of air against his skin. Seth was already drooling, too, his mouth stretched too wide to swallow properly.

Dean laughed. “You sloppy bitch,” he said, voice full of affection, and then he got down to the serious business of fucking that face.

It was glorious. Seth choked on his dick so well, the one time being a whiny fucking baby was a benefit. Dean luxuriated in it, bumping into the back of Seth’s throat over and over again; sometimes he caught the edge of one of Seth’s teeth and the shock of pain almost made his eyes roll back in his head.

“Good luck brushing this off you,” Dean panted, still rabbiting thrusts into Seth’s drooling mouth. “Brush your fucking teeth all you want, you ain’t wiping this away.” Dean groped out blindly and got a grip on Seth’s head again, didn’t yank, just upped the pressure, let Seth arch into the sting.

“Maybe if you suck your daddy off enough, you can wash the taste out,” Dean gasped. He was so close now, he was just rolling his hips, riding the edge. “Oh, but he don’t want you no more, does he?” Seth choked on a particularly hard thrust. “He fucked off with his leg between his legs, didn’t he? You’re all a-fucking-lone in the world now.” There were tears leaking from Seth’s eyes. Dean didn’t know if they were from the strain or from his words and he didn’t care.

“But don’t worry about it, babe,” Dean hissed, he was right _there_ , he could fucking _taste_ it, “don’t you fret your pretty little head about anything.” Dean felt his balls tighten and thrust _deep_ again, grinding his pubes into Seth’s beard. The orgasm hit him like a kick to the ass and the sweet spasms of Seth’s throat milked every drop out of him.

When Dean finally pulled out, Seth bent over double, dry heaving and gasping desperately. Dean took a moment to stretch luxuriously in the afterglow. Seth was bright red and his face was covered in snot and spit and tears and pieces of hair that were stuck to the mess. Dean leaned over him and said, “’Cause you’re still a _champion_ cocksucker,” he cooed, “and we’ll always have a place in the locker room for one of those.”

Seth had almost gotten his breathing under control but he didn’t look up. His hands were fisted loosely in the bed sheets. Dean patted his cheek soothingly. “I broke you in good, yeah?” he said. “The boys in the locker room’ll love it. Your whore mouth’ll have all the spunk you can drink, and maybe if you’re real, real good, someone’ll bite the bullet and take a crack at your slutty ass, too. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

Seth’s breathing was still ragged and labored. He gave a tiny nod that Dean could feel more than see, and Dean made sure to reward him with a sharp smile. “Yeah, it’s a regular treat for a thirsty bitch like you,” he said. “Now get in the fucking bathroom before you get anymore drool on my bed.”

Dean made a point of stretching out on the bed while Seth stumbled to his feet. He could see Seth’s hard cock pressing forward in his pants, looking so desperate for touch it probably hurt.

Seth took an age in the bathroom. Dean could hear him dropping things and bumping into shit, and when Seth finally came back to the bedroom on wobbly feet, he looked lost. His eyes were still half vacant and he’d made an attempt to wash his face but he still looked wrecked in the best way.

“Don’t just stand there like an asshole,” Dean said. He pulled up the filthy bedspread and tossed it to the floor. “Get over here and let me cuddle you, you bitch.”

There was a long pause, and then Seth shuffled over to the bed and crawled in. “Yeaaaaaaahhhhhh,” Dean said, and rolled over to spoon him, so they were snuggled up close like two bugs in a rug.

Dean was hovering on the edge of sleep when he heard Seth say, “You’re so fucking weird,” in a disbelieving voice.

Dean didn’t bother to open his eyes, but he did nuzzle in to bite Seth on the ear. “I’m not the scumbag with a little whore mouth,” he pointed out.

Seth made a sound that could have been a laugh, and Dean rubbed his face against the back of Seth’s neck. Seth was still a goddamn piece of shit, but he was warm and solid and present again, and Dean had all the time in the world to punish him.

Seth reached a tentative hand back and Dean allowed him to curl their fingers together, and then they slept, content.


End file.
